


Riptide

by SeventhStrife



Category: Underworld (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Depression, F/F, F/M, More characters to come, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Time Travel, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-03-15
Updated: 2018-03-20
Packaged: 2019-03-31 21:56:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,578
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13984119
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SeventhStrife/pseuds/SeventhStrife
Summary: Selene has lived a long time, but these last few decades have tested the limits of her endurance. Alone, adrift, seemingly cursed to a life devoid of any meaning, Selene simply waits for it all to end.Then, late one night, Lena offers an alternative.





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah, it's ya boi, back at it again with the dead fandoms. I've had the idea for this fic kicking around in my head since I saw Blood Wars and even though literally no one still watches Underworld, I thought I'd put this up just to see if there's any interest.

_Aki két nyulat hajt egyet se ver._

It is a saying her father once said, long ago. Her father's face slips from her mind, as incandescent and fleeting as smoke, but she can still hear his voice, the rumble of his wistful laughter.

 _Grasp all, lose all._ Back then, she'd been a greedy girl, trying to pick flowers and play tag with her sister at the same time. But, instead, she'd dropped the flowers when her sister had snuck up behind her, and the flowers had been trampled in the dirt.

She doesn't know why this insignificant, ancient memory comes to her now, but it makes one thing clear to her.

She's never learned her lesson. She's still that silly little girl, grasping at everything she can get her hands on and losing it all to her selfishness.

It's been days of cleaning and scurrying about the keep like frantic mice, rooting out those still loyal to Semira and clearing the dead carcasses of friend and foe alike. That very first day, someone had tried to stop her from dragging a Lycan body from the staircase. It was unseemly, apparently, for an Elder to stoop so low.

Selene had very calmly, and very quietly, told the naive child to get out of her way. And she was obeyed. No one dared to order her again. In fact, it had begun to sink in that no one would give her orders ever again.

But there was no joy or peace with such a revelation. Just a bone-deep weariness. She had never craved power the way her brothers and sisters did. Peace. That was truly all she'd wanted. An end to the fighting, a place to call her own with...with Michael, and maybe even the little one.

But they were both gone, both in awful, painful ways, and here she was at the top, a revered Elder of the Coven.

She wanted it all to stop. Just— _stop._ The elders of the past had carried on for millennia, but the very thought of existing for centuries more—it frightened to the very core of her. It didn't bear thinking of. She did not think she could endure much more, and such an existence filled her with dread.

Because if there was one thing life had taught her, it was that it could always take more. Every time she'd thought she'd endured all she could, that there couldn't _possibly_ be more pain, she was proven wrong time and time again.

She could see it even now. There was little for her now, but there was enough for a glimmer of hope. There was her daughter, her beautiful Eve, who might one day wish to see her mother. There was also Lena and David, steadfast and true, who both carried a certain warmth in their eyes when they regarded her.

They could be taken from her so easily. She would suffer and break, but would she die? There was no guarantee, and that was what made her restless. Death no longer scared her, hadn't for a long while now, but the cruelty of _life?_ It made her blood run cold.

But still. Her work is hardly done, and she flits through every day equal parts clearing the dead, barking orders, and sitting in council, discussing the future of her kind and the war, as if anything they do could make a difference. All the while, she feels herself simply drifting, caught in the current of life and simply letting it take her where it will, indifferent to whether she'll land ashore or be dashed to pieces against the rocks.

This limbo of time, where food is ash in her mouth and she sometimes must check that her heart is still truly beating, is when Lena comes to her, quietly and calmly in the night.

The knock on her door rouses her from her staring contest with the ceiling, and she rises half out of bed, distantly worried. It's late, and only ill tiding can come of such a visit.

"Who is it?" She demands.

Lena glides as if she has wings, not meeting Selene's eyes until she's entered and shut the door softly behind her. Then, she turns to face Selene, and she smiles.

She's still in her night clothes. Selene does not understand.

"What is it? What's wrong?"

Lena stands at her bedside in the space of a breath, moving almost too fast for Selene's eyes to trace. Her hand reaches out and caresses Selene's cheek, just a brush of touch, but it makes her go completely still.

"Peace," Lena breathes. Her clear eyes search Selene's face, falling into sadness. "You think no one notices, but I have. You are still suffering..."

Selene's breath catches, and in the next moment, she allows her eyes to fall shut. Her hold on her blankets is a vice grip.

"Please," Selene begs. She's tried running away when Lena seeks to see to the heart of her, but she knows it is no use. She can only ask for mercy this time. "Do not...do not do this."

But her words fall on deaf ears. Lena cups her face gently, and Selene sees a mirror of her own tears in her eyes.

"For tonight at least, let me ease the pain of your heart."

Lena leans close, and before Selene can stop her, she kisses her.

Selene's hands rise halfway up and freeze, unsure and shocked. Her hands twitch, but she's not sure if she wants to push Lena through the wall or cling like the silly little girl she somehow still is. It's been so long since she's been touched this way.

Her eyes haven't closed, and neither have Lena's. It's this that unmakes her, seeing those cool, compassionate eyes drinking her in during such an intimate act.

Overwhelmed, Selene can do no more than submit, eyes fluttering shut. Hot tears fall from her cheeks as she tentatively meets the caress, her lips moving in tandem with Lena's.

They kiss for an infinite length of time, Lena's touch firm, yet gentle; confident, yet cherishing. It's far, far too much, but Selene—deprived for so long—laps it up desperately.

A firm hand on the center of her chest breaks the kiss, and she's pushed down slowly, coming to rest on the pillows. Lena slips beneath the covers to join her, pulling her close, entwining their legs, and caresses her hair. She makes no move to continue.

 _Thank God,_ is all Selene can think. She would have done more, would have greedily taken whatever Lena deigned to give her, but she truly isn't ready. She's not sure she'll ever be.

Hours more pass, simply drinking in the warmth of another body pressed close, of a touch that doesn't hurt or bleed her. The relief of it is as painful as one that does.

The tears don't stop and each time her chest gives a heaving shudder, Lena hums soothingly, her grip going a bit tighter. Selene wants her to squeeze harder, until she sinks into her skin.

Dawn rises before words pass between them. The curtains aren't drawn, but neither hiss in pain when the first shafts of sunlight reach them. Selene does nothing, doesn't even squint against the light, but she can fill Lena freeze, still marveling at the warmth even after all this time. The ghost of a smile twitches Selene's lips.

A few moments later, a touch on her cheek—wiping away the dampness—tells her that Lena has recovered.

"What is it that you want, Selene?"

She doesn't even have to think about it. Her eyes close; her words, a whisper.

"To sleep," she says simply, achingly.

Lena squeezes her arm, the action filled with sympathy.

"Yes," she says, as if everything is truly that simple. "Then you shall."

Selene's eyes fly open.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Drop a quick comment to let me know if you want more. Also, Google Translate was used. If Hungarian is your native tongue, or you know of a better phrasing, hmu.


	2. Chapter 2

Once Selene's convinced Lena's offer isn't some cruel joke, or a trick, it takes every ounce of restraint not to  _run_ for the northern coven without a single glance back. 

Only Lena's council, annoyingly sage, stops her. 

"You're no longer someone who can come and go as she pleases without  _some_ explanation," she teases. And _Elders_ , if that doesn't chafe. "At the very least, David deserves to know." 

Lena coaxes her back to bed, but she hardly sleeps at all. A low thrum of energy buzzes just beneath her skin and sets her pulse racing. She puzzles over it for a good long while until she can give name to the feeling:

Hope. It's been so long since she's felt it, she's almost afraid of it. She feels stronger without it.

"...I don't understand," David says later, dark eyes worried and unhappy. 

It's only the three of them in a dusty drawing room. Besides the two people with her, Selene doesn't trust a single person in the coven. Sure, she is their leader, but she herself knows all too well the worth of words and promises. She can still feel nightshade, thick and viscous, coursing through her blood, the helplessness and the cool embrace of a slow paralysis.

_Never again_ , she'd vowed.

"You're _leaving?"_

Selene looks up, meets David's harsh, accusing gaze squarely.

"Yes."

David frowns heavily. In that moment, he looks strikingly like his father.

His eyes cut to Lena.

"And _you're_ fine with this?"

Lena simply regards him in that cool, curious way she has, piercing eyes seeing straight through him. Her lips quirk into a smile.

"I'm relieved."

"Re—?" David's forehead creases. _"Relieved?"_

Lena reaches out, places a palm on Selene's shoulder. When Selene glances her way, Lena's already watching her.

"This rest is long overdue."

Selene breaks the contact. Something about Lena's entire being seems at any moment ready to shatter her completely.

"The coven is better off without me, anyways," Selene tells him.

David looks shocked and dismayed. "You can't believe that."

Selene glares at him. "Of course I do. What do I know about leadership, David? Honestly? I'm not suited for council meetings or delegation or plans of strategy. I'm a _soldier,_ not a politician. I know how to kill, and I know how to run. Pretending anything else will get the last of our people killed long before the humans or lycans do."

"That's still no reason to run away from your responsibilities!" David rises, bracing his hands on the table as he leans over, as if distance will convince Selene of the error of her ways. "Like it or not, these people look to _you_ now. You've become someone they admire and respect, someone they've placed their faith in when they thought they had none left. Feeling ill-equipped is natural, but throwing away this opportunity to finally do some good—some _real_ good—"

_"Enough!"_ Selene lurches to her feet in a mirror of David's own position, her chair falling to the ground with a heavy, echoing thud. "I've killed for _centuries_ for the good of my people. I've sacrificed and bled and _suffered_ for this cause, and what has it ever gotten me? Nothing but pain and betrayal!"

Selene pushes away, pacing as the blood pumps hot through her veins. _David doesn't know war, not like I do,_ she tries to calm herself. _He's still young. Young and ignorant. I shouldn't shoot him in the face._

She stops pacing when she's reached a good distance away from the table, feeling the stares on her like physical weights. A long, tired sigh escapes her once she's calmed enough.

"You're not wrong, David, about any of it," she eventually admits. She turns to face the table, arms crossed. David's glare has lessened to show his surprise, while Lena simply watches her pensively, a slight frown on her face.

"But I've given enough of myself to people who would only lie and double-cross me. I'm _tired,_ David. Tired in a way I pray you'll never understand. I wish I had the strength or the patience to see your vision through, I truly do, but," She meets his eyes, "I really, _really_ don't care. About any of it." She drops her gaze, shoulders slumping and hair falling to hide her expression, although that might be a moot point now; her desolation must color her every word.

"I just want to sleep," she whispers.

Quiet descends for a long moment. Selene uses the time to compose herself, to bring herself back from that precipice she's teetering on, the one that wants to release all the anger, all the misery, all the bitterness that been building for decades now. The time and place for that is hardly here. She hopes that time never comes.

A touch on her elbow brings her head back up, and the first thing she sees are Lena's ice-blue eyes, regarding her with concern. Selene brushes her fingers over the gentle touch, reassuring her without words that she's well enough. Even if she isn't, who cares? It will all be over soon.

"Okay."

David's much closer now, as well. Within touching distance, but unlike Lena, he's not brave enough to bridge that gap. His eyes match her's, however, worry shining clear.

"If...If this is what you truly need, I'll respect your decision." His frown resurfaces. "But that doesn't mean I have to like it."

"David—"

"Leaving for an indeterminable amount of time might not sound like a big deal to you, but it is to me. This isn't just about the coven. It's about me. Us," he says, gesturing to Lena."I—" He cuts himself off with a frustrated noise. He says, "You're my _friend,_ Selene, whether you agree or not. Don't expect me to look forward to the coming days without you."

Selene finds herself quite at a loss for words, brought up short by the unexpected confession. She looks to Lena, then David again, and realizes abruptly that she'll be sad to leave them.

"I—," Selene stops, then inclines her head. "...Thank you, David."

David's lips twitch in the barest hint of a smile, and Selene finds herself returning it.

"So...Should we make an announcement to the coven or something?"

_"God,_ no," Selene shudders. "I sincerely doubt they'll be quite so understanding, and I'm not inclined to explain my reasoning beyond anyone in this room."

"What should I say?"

Selene waves her hand dismissively. "Whatever suits you. I'm on reconnaissance. I treating with our brethren in the East. I fell into another lake. If you told everyone I simply died in my sleep, I'm sure they'd accept it. You're over-estimating my esteem here."

"I'm really not," David says with a wry smile. It would be a nice moment, if not for how his smile is tinged with sadness at their parting.

Beside her, Lena says, "Whenever you're ready, Selene, we can go."

Selene looks between the two—her _friends_ —and nods her head. "I'm ready now."

_"Jesus,"_ David mutters under his breath. "You really don't waste time, do you?" When Selene glances his way, he shrugs and shakes his head. "I'll miss you, Selene. I hope you find what you're searching for."

"Me too."

Leaving the room feels harder than she'd expected, but once she's out in the halls, she feels lighter. The burden of being a revered Elder has fallen completely from her shoulders.

Lena steps out just behind her. She takes her hand, tugging Selene towards her bedroom.

"Come," she beckons. "We'll need to pack. We have quite a distance to cover before you're missed."


End file.
